Open Letter

Dude, that sucks. I feel your pain. You just spent the past three months analyzing every skill position in football and now that the playoffs – the most exciting time of the year! – have arrived, you’re on the outside looking in. Try not to think about the number of hours you spent researching which New Orleans Saint RB to draft1 and debating whether or not you should pick up Robby Anderson.2 Even worse, it’s not like the people who made it into the playoffs at your expense even deserve their success, right? They totally lucked their way in by drafting players like Carson Wentz, Adam Thielen and Todd Gurley II.3 Who could have seen that coming?

On some random Friday night, you’re going to find yourself sitting around with nothing to do and thinking that maybe it’d be fun to go out with your friends, have a few drinks and, quite possibly, carry a concealed weapon in your jeans. Maybe you’re thinking it’d be great to play a light flag football game with the guys. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

I get it. NBA players that you’ve never even heard of are pulling down huge new contracts while players who are adequate but unspectacular are getting insanely huge new contracts despite being massive injury risks.1 It’s probably enough to make you wonder if you should’ve played basketball instead of dedicating your life to a game that even its best players are saying will destroy your brain.

Before I get ahead of myself, I want to give you guys some much deserved love. Adrian, you had the best combination of size and speed that I’ve ever seen at running back. In 2012, you managed to run for 2,097 yards even though running backs were becoming increasingly irrelevant and despite the fact that every single team you played against stacked the box because your quarterback was as intimidating as a loaf of white bread. And that happened when you were coming off a torn ACL! That’s nuts man. You really were the real life equivalent of a superhero – and you knew it, which made the whole thing that much better.

Marshawn. You were tough. You were silent. You loved you some Skittles. Oh, and there was that time that you literally caused an earthquake. And then a few years later you ran over the entire Arizona Cardinals team in a run so amazing that one of your teammates compared it to, uh, escaping slavery? That’s…powerful stuff. If given the choice between being hit by you or a Mack truck, I’d at least ask how fast the truck was going before I made up my mind, you know?

First off, yes. I understand that you’re going to pretend that you don’t exist. That Bill Belichick – perhaps the greatest coach in NFL history – couldn’t possibly have the time or lack of self worth to play fantasy football. I get that you’re going to say that. And I know that it’s a lie. This is Bill Belichick we’re talking about here. The Hoodie himself! The man is so competitive that he’s probably secretly videotaping the entire Miami Dolphins roster right now as they eat brunch, trying to get an edge for next year based on how Ryan Tannehill likes his eggs.1 So yeah, he’s definitely pummeling a bunch of schmucks in a fantasy league every year.

It’s been a rough year for you. It wasn’t that long ago that you were the next big thing and now, only a few bounced interceptions later, you’re having to brush off questions about being out of a job. That’s not a great career arc and I can’t imagine that it’s a whole lot of fun being the living embodiment of a wasted draft pick. But don’t let it get to you! Like T-Swift said, haters gonna hate,1 so in the face of that kind of adversity why not double down, turn that hate into strength and bet on yourself?2